


The Festival

by all_my_fandoms (marina)



Category: True Blood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/all_my_fandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <b>Godric/Eric, Eric on top</b> requested by miarr</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Festival

It's one of the better festivals Eric's ever been to. It's autumn, the air is crisp but not freezing; the humans are wearing just enough layers to make it interesting.

They feed until Eric can feel his body singing with strength, and then they kill whoever's left of the villagers. A few run into the forest and no doubt will bring reinforcements tomorrow to cast out the monsters, but he and Godric will be long gone by then.

Their clothes are soaked with blood and dirt. Eric wouldn't mind, but Godric's always taught him to appear as human as he; it makes the hunt more interesting. They go into one of the huts and Godric strips Eric's clothes before taking off his own. There's a pile of clean clothes in the corner – probably belonging to men who are away for the festival. Eric remembers the hunting trips of his human life; the rites are different everywhere.

Godric pulls him down on top of him, on the bed of hay in the corner, wraps his legs around Eric and soon they're fucking like the dawn will never come. A good night's entertainment often puts them both in the mood.

Godric pulls Eric's head down, gently guiding it until Eric's mouth is pressed against the vein in Godric's neck. Eric looks up at him, surprised, but Godric's eyes are closed, his expression blissful. Eric gives another quick thrust, inhales deeply and bites down hard.

He's never tasted the blood of his maker since the night he was made. From the first drop, it's fire in his veins. It overwhelms him, nearly making him thrash, but Godric's arms are strong against his skin, holding him in place. He tries to control the flow, lapping at the wound instead of sucking. It helps; his body adjusts and the blood feels like relief, like life pouring into him, instead of liquid fire.

Godric's hands run over his back, grab his ass, urge him to keep going. Godric could crush him with barely a finger, but instead he's letting Eric set the pace; waiting for Eric to gain control of himself.

They finish the night underground, in some cave Godric leads him to, without explanation, as usual. Everywhere they go it seems Godric knows the lay of the land, the customs, even some of the languages. In the last moments before dawn tugs Eric's eyes closed, he looks over at Godric lying next to him on the damp leaves. A thought presents itself and dissolves into darkness before Eric can take apart its implications:

_He's been alone for a thousand years_.


End file.
